Harry Potter and the Telltale of the Deceased
by liseli
Summary: HIATUSTragedies take their toll on you after a while, and eventually Harry decides to do something about them. Something unwise and discovers death on a whole new level, revealing a secret that poses death to those that he tried so desperately to protect.
1. Unwanted Inheritance

Here it is, as I promised. This chapter is really short, but I'm working on the next right now. It will most likely be up within the next hour or two. If anyone notices a theme appearing over the next few chapters and you think that it would make a good title, let me know, because I'm stumped.  
  
Disclaimer: I know nothing of the sixth book, only JK Rowling does. I'm just taking a stab in the dark as to what could happen and what I want to happen. All of the characters belong to her.  
  
On with the story! Hope you like!  
  
Unwanted Inheritance  
  
Had you lived on number 2 Privet Drive, and had you happened to look out of your window at two A.M. that July morning, you would have seen a thin, black-haired boy with astonishingly green eyes almost glowing in the dim streetlamp light crawling out of the window and down the lattice-work of number 4. Fortunately, no one on Privet Drive had any business looking out of their window at such a time. Their clock-work lives left no time or tolerance for anyone to be up at two in the morning. No, they were respectable, working-class, normal citizens who looked down on night- crawlers. But Harry Potter was not exactly normal.  
  
Harry Potter did not even belong to the same world as the inhabitants of Privet Drive. Far too abnormal. Far too fishy. Far too sneaky. Far too everything-that-the-Dursleys-and-their-neighbors-hated. But most importantly, he was far too wizardly. That's what caused his parents to die. That's what caused Harry to live. That's what caused him to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That's what caused Cedric to die. That's what caused Sirius to die. That's what caused Voldemort to chase after him. He was too magic. Even for the wizarding world.  
  
He was crawling out of the window to escape, obviously. The Dursleys had obeyed Mad-Eye Moody, out of sheer terror, but it was a stiff, forced kindness. Not that Harry had ever really expected kindness from them, but having the room cleared as you walk in to it is almost as bad as being locked up in your room. He could hardly stand to be in the house. And the Dursleys made it very clear that they would much rather him be out of it, too. But on the second day of summer holiday, he left the house and Mad- Eye, who had been on guard duty, told him to march right back in. It was too dangerous he said. Hadn't Harry been in much more dangerous places than Privet Drive? Wasn't he capable of going down the front steps safely? Had he not come face-to-face with people capable of doing much more damage to him than Dudley and his little gang could impose?  
  
He didn't care what Mad-Eye said. He had too much of the Dursleys. He had to get out, even if it was just for a little while. All he needed was a walk, some fresh air, and time away from that painfully clean and narrow- minded house. He breathed in deeply. This was better. How long did he have to stay here, anyway? Better question: where would he go when he left here? They couldn't leave him here all summer, could they? He doubted that he would be back at the Burrow any time soon. Would they take him back to Grimmauld Place.?  
  
Almost as if to answer his question, Lupin appeared out of nowhere in his usual shabby robes and ever-graying hair. Harry let out an aggravated sigh. He never thought that he would be unhappy to see his former teacher. "Sir, please I just, I-I need some time to clear out my head. I just can't stand to be trapped in there all of the time." Said Harry.  
  
"No, it's okay. I understand. But, I need to talk to you about something."  
  
"What?" He replied, somewhat relieved that he wasn't making him go back into that house just yet.  
  
"Come with me to Mrs. Figg's house. It's not safe to talk about here."  
  
That small spark of relief that had ignited was immediately put out. "What? Has something happened?"  
  
"No, nothing yet. Just come in here." Remus said heavily as they reached the garden wall of Mrs. Figg's house. As he walked up the hedge-lined pathway, cats peep out of their hiding places. A couple of them even dash off to the back of the house. When he reached the dark blue door, he only had to knock twice before a light was switched on and a blurred figure appeared behind the beveled glass. Mrs. Figg opened the door looking sleepy in her flowery dressing gown and slippers, but scowling all the same. "Remus, you know you don't have to use the door, just apparate-oh, you've brought Harry. I see now. Haven't been getting yourself into any trouble I hope, have you?"  
  
"No, he hasn't, Arabella. I just need to talk to him." Said Lupin before Harry could answer.  
  
"Well what did you have to wake me for?"  
  
"I needed to speak to him about things that are not for everyone's ears."  
  
"Oh," she said huffily. "Then make yourselves at home. Don't mind me, I just live here."  
  
"I'll tell you later." He said.  
  
"Good. Well then, I'm going back to bed. You know where everything is." She said and walked back up the stairs, followed by several feline companions.  
  
Remus motioned for Harry to follow him. As they walked through the foyer, passed the living room and into the kitchen, the smell of cabbage became steadily stronger. Harry plugged his nose.  
  
"Do you know why it always smells like this?" He asked.  
  
"No idea" Lupin responded. "Maybe it's not so bad in here." He said and led him into the dining room. It was a revolting shade of pink mixed with greens and browns. "Well, at least it smells slightly better" He said with a frown. "Want anything to drink, Harry?"  
  
"No thank you."  
  
"Good, sit down. As I said, I need to talk to you." He said and folded his hands. "Dumbledore needs permission from you to continue to use number twelve, Grimmauld Place as headquarters."  
  
Harry grit his teeth. "Why from me?"  
  
"Because, Si-Sirius left you as his heir."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes, nearly everything was left to you. I just need your word to continue to use it."  
  
"Why me though?"  
  
"Well, as I understand it, Si-Sirius was the last of the Blacks, so he had to choose an heir. You were the obvious choice. Next to your father, you were the closest person to him."  
  
"But, I--I don't know if I can go back there."  
  
"I understand; I knew him as well, but it's the only place, and we really need it now that Voldemort is going public.So do we have permission?"  
  
"Sure, but I don't have to go there, do I?"  
  
"It's there or here."  
  
"What about the Burrow? Could I go there?"  
  
"You would be putting yourself and the Weasleys in danger there. Besides, they are going to be staying at the headquarters again."  
  
"I, I just can't go back there. I don't think I could stand to be in his house without him there." He said and looked down, so he didn't notice Lupin's mouth twitch.  
  
"You don't have to go just yet; Dumbledore wants you to stay here a bit longer."  
  
"How long is a bit?"  
  
"A week or two. I'll tell you when it's time."  
  
"Alright. A week."  
  
A/N Hope you liked it! I'm going to post this, then finish chapter 2. Please review!!!!! Also, because teachers think that they have the right to own your life during school and after, I'll probably do most of my updating on the weekends. Now, REVIEW!!!!!!!! -Liseli 


	2. Crying in the Street

Crying in the Street  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, 'cause if I did I would be filthy rich and selling this piece of bull to publishers for an outrageous amount instead of uploading it to FanFiction.net for free. Incase you were wondering, JK Rowling owns the story.  
  
A/N Thanks sosososososo much to my reviewers! Answers after this chappie and an explanation as to why I didn't update yesterday! I'm really really sorry about that! So stay tuned!  
  
Lupin walked Harry back home and watched him climb back up the lattice- work. After he was safely in the window, Lupin turned around and shook his head. "Poor Harry." He said softly to no one in particular and for no particular reason, then disapparated with a small pop.  
He only knew the half of it.  
  
As Harry entered his room, he let out a small sigh and sat down on his bed. Hedwig flew over to greet him and he began to sub-consciously pet her. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep; he had not slept in days. But he couldn't stand to be awake, alone with his thoughts. Yet he wanted to be alone, because if he was with someone, he would be expected to do or say something. The only escape he could think of was sleep, but the things on his conscious made that impossible.  
  
Deciding that he would at least attempt to sleep, he put Hedwig in her cage and turned the light out. He crawled under the covers then closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to eventually come ease his troubled mind. After a few moments pictures begin to form on the back of his eyelids. It's Sirius and Bellatrix. They're in the Department of Mysteries, dueling again. It's happening in his mind exactly as it had happened in real life. But Harry found himself hoping that it would be different this time. That he would make it. As Bellatrix cast the spell, Sirius began to fall backwards in slow motion towards the Veil. Though Harry knows that what will happen is inevitable, he cannot bring himself to open his eyes. If only he could regain his balance, or push himself away.  
  
It ends as it always does in his memory. He falls through the curtain, not to return. Harry opens his eyes then turns over and smashes his face into the pillow and screams. Then he grabs it with both hands on either end, pulls it out from under himself and begins to pull on it and rip it out of rage.  
  
"Why was I so stupid?!?!" He shouted to himself. "Why did I have to play the hero?!?! I should've remembered the mirrors!!!! I should've known that Kreacher wouldn't tell me the truth!! I shouldn't have tried to play the hero. That's how Cedric died. That's how Si-Sirius died. I should've known that Voldemort would try to-try to fool me into his trap. Why was I so stupid? Why was I so stupid?" As Uncle Vernon opened the door Harry stormed out of the room past him. He went down the stairs in a fury and the front door burst open. He marched out of the door and down the garden path, shouting at himself all the way. He didn't know where he was going or why.  
  
Then, as he began to scream to himself that he was a cretin again, he realized with irony that running into the street and screaming Bloody Mary was very idiotic and rash. He felt like such a dolt that he collapsed onto his knees right there in the middle of the street.  
  
"Why?" He sobbed as he pounded on the ground. "Why? Why? Why?!" It was no question in particular, just a general why. Why did Sirius have to die? Why did Cedric die? Why did he have to act like such a brave little git all of the time? Why did he have to be the one?  
  
It took him a few moments to realize that he was being watched. He turned his tear-stained face towards the garden gate to see the Dursley family looking at him dumbfounded. Every moment or two, Aunt Petunia would glance around to make sure that no one saw the number four household standing in the middle of the street in their nightclothes at five in the morning.  
  
"Boy, what the hell are you doing out here?" Demanded Uncle Vernon, turning red. Harry stared blankly back, not knowing the answer himself. The sun was beginning to rise.  
  
"Someone might see us!" Whispered Aunt Petunia anxiously as she glanced around quickly.  
  
Harry just sat there stupidly.  
  
"Potter, you had better get back in that house now! People are starting to wake up!" Said Uncle Vernon, doing his best to keep his voice down as to not attract the neighbors.  
  
Harry continued to kneel defiantly in the street. It just didn't seem appropriate that he heed his uncle.  
  
Vernon finally lost control. He grabbed Harry by the collar and pulled him up to his feet. "Boy, get in that house NOW!" He yelled, his face now purple.  
  
"I wouldn't do this it I were you." Said Harry calmly.  
  
"And why not? You're going to use your.thing? I know you won't, boy. You were nearly expelled last time!" He said in an angry half-whisper.  
  
"No, I won't. But he's here." Harry said coolly. He was referring, of course, to his guard.  
  
"Who is? I don't see anyone. There aren't any of.your kind here." Said Vernon, now spitting in Harry's face.  
  
"Yes, there are, Dursley. So get your grubby paws off of him, or I will use my 'thing'." Replied an invisible voice from behind him. Uncle Vernon dropped Harry out of shock. Dudley attempted to hide behind his mother to no avail. And Aunt Petunia's hands went to her bony face.  
  
"Who's there? Show yourself!" Shouted Uncle Vernon in a panicked tone. The sun was now fully up.  
  
"I don't think you'd want me to." Said the invisible voice that Harry assumed was Lupin.  
  
The Dursleys looked frantically around. Their neighbors were staring at them out of their widows. Harry grinned. Uncle Vernon put on his cheesiest smile with voice to match. "Oh! Good morning! Just getting the paper!" he said to the neighborhood in general. Then, he tuned quickly around and whispered for his family to get back in the house.  
  
"But the paper doesn't come until six!" Said Mr. Number Three across the street just as the Dursleys and Harry shut their door.  
  
As soon as they got in the house, Vernon rounded on Harry. He was about to start yelling but thought better of it. He stood there, shifting his weight from left to right (A/N Poor left and right!), contemplating what to say. It was Aunt Petunia that finally broke the silence.  
  
"Vernon, you're going to be late for work." She said quietly.  
  
Uncle Vernon gave Harry another glare, then went up the stairs to get dressed. Aunt Petunia went into the kitchen to make breakfast, which left Dudley and Harry standing in the hallway. Harry wanted to go to his room to write to Ron or Hermione, or perhaps even begin his Potions essay, but the stairs were blocked by Dudley's enormous bulk. Afraid of making Harry mad again, he ran into the kitchen after his mother. Harry began to climb the stairs again slowly, dreading the arrival to his room, where he would begin to think of those things all over again, but not even considering going into the kitchen to and being with the rest of number four's household.  
  
A/N There's no real reason for me making Harry run in the street, I just thought that the invisible voice scaring the bejeebies out of the Dursleys was interesting. And, Harry is crying tears of anger, and not even that hard; he's shouting more than anything. I HATE it when authors make him cry tears of sadness. I just don't think that he's that kind of character. He's a go-getter, not a thinker, and thinkers cry in the corner while go-getters do something about why they're sad. Harry's going to do something, I promise; he's just trying not to be too rash as to not get anyone killed again. Besides, if he did what he's going to do right off the bat, it wouldn't make for much of a story, would it?  
  
Okay, got that out of my system, on to the explanation and answers!  
  
Yesterday my computer was being a real pain in the butt. I type this stuff on my computer, then transfer it by floppy to my dad's because I don't have the internet in my room. Well, the floppies didn't want to save or open anything, and I was getting really p.o.ed. I got it to work eventually, but no one told me that my cousins and aunt and uncle were coming for a barbeque. So, I was listening to music and doing really stupid dances with my little cousin and sisters, which got me happy and hyper. So, I settled down eventually, but I was still really happy, so I read some funny fics. (Evie2 is a hilarious writer! Read one of hers after this! Her "A Guest in Gryffindor" is great!) After that, I sat in the living room and listened to the grownups talk, and found out that everyone used to think I was dyslexic, when I was really Gifted/Talented. Lol. Then, they all went bar- hopping, so I had to baby-sit. My dad didn't want me on the computer 'till my little sisters went to sleep. After they went to bed, I was struggling to stay awake, so I got some caffeine and went to finish reading "A Guest in Gryffindor". By the time I was done, it was 2:30 a.m., and my parents walked in and told me to go to bed. I slept 'till 10:00 this morning, went to church, and here I am now. You really needed to know all of this, didn't you? Well, anyway, that's why I'm just now updating., and again, I'm really really really sorry!  
  
Answers:  
  
Saakotomaya: Consuming Thoughts was a story I began to write, but decided to start it over from where OotP left off. C.T. will eventually appear in this story with a couple of alterations, because it is the gateway to my main plot. I never finished it; I will in this story, but if you read it, you will have a slight inkling as to where I'm going with this story. If you don't like it, don't worry; I had a MAJOR plot twist planned for the next chapter of C.T., which I will write into this story.  
  
Hrei Siesn: Thanks so much, I was ticked off at those writers, too!  
  
Gpbpandoc4: Thank you!!! AS I said, there is a plot-twist after the last chappie of Consuming Thoughts!  
  
TardOnTheRun: Yeah, I know. It's just that in C.T., I thought that I went overboard with voice-tones. Did I do any better in this chapter? Tell me the truth! Also, the diary idea is cool; I may use it, but as for the plot, I know where it's going up to a certain extent. There is going to be at least one point in this story where I'll ask if there is anything you want me to do in it, and I'll let you know when that is. Thanks for the suggestions, though!  
  
Fernie: Thanks!  
  
FrozenQuill: Thanks again!!  
  
I'll update ASAP, but I've got homework to do this afternoon, so I won't make any promises about it being today.  
  
-Liseli 


	3. Harry makes up his mind

Harry Makes Up His Mind  
  
A/N FOUR DAY WEEKEND!!!!!! MWAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!! Stupid school system, Labor Day isn't until Monday!!!! Thanks for giving us Friday off, anyway though! Okay, I feel better. Minor change: all this is happening in June instead of July. Now, on a more Sirius note.  
  
When he got into his room, he sat down at his desk with the intentions to write his friend letters about what he didn't know. He pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and ink bottle, dipped the feather into the blue liquid, then wrote 'Hermione' at the top. He found that even after the events of that morning, could find nothing to say to her. He pulled out another piece of paper and wrote 'Ron' on this one, thinking that perhaps something would come to mind that he wanted to tell him, but nothing did. He sat there, staring blankly at the parchment, his quill held over the two pieces addressed to his friends, ink slowly dripping and making blue blotches on the off-white, blank letters. His two best friends, the people who made up the closest thing to a family he had, and he could think of nothing he wanted to write to them. There were plenty of things to say, plenty of things that he should tell them, but nothing he had the heart or energy to. The other person whom he even would have considered telling, was gone. Dead, and he, Harry, had just inherited his house. Sirius died because of his stupidity, his recklessness, and the fact that Harry cared about him. He died out of love, in more sense than one. Now there was hardly anyone Harry had any love for. The Weasleys, Hermione, Hagrid, Dumbledore; they were really the only ones left that. Then, a new thought popped in his head. Would his caring for them be enough to bring them to their end, as it had been for Sirius? Did Voldemort know how much he cared about them? He must; he knew that hey followed him into danger before. Would he attempt to get to Harry by taking them? He sat there, thinking for a long time and didn't notice his aunt's calls to breakfast. If he showed any type of emotion towards his friends, Voldemort could use it against him.There was nothing else for it; he would have to leave them. He couldn't go back to Hogwarts and put them all in danger. He had his cloak on and was mounting his broom, when he realized with irony that he was being reckless; something else that killed Sirius. Besides, if he left now, one of the Order would be sure to catch him. But then how would he get away? He was always being watched. Harry put his broom and cloak back in the closet and lied down on his bed. Was there any point in time during which he was not being watched? At Number 4; probably not. At Hogwarts; yes, but there he would be right under Dumbledore's nose, not to mention everyone else's. What about Grimmauld Place? He would be living in the same house as the people guarding him. He would be safer there than almost anywhere else. But that could put their guard down; thinking that if anything happened to Harry there, they would be sure to know. All he had to do was sneak out when no one was looking.  
  
A/N Okay, that was a painfully short chapter, so I'll write and post the next at the same time as this one. 


	4. The Smaller Advance Squad

The Smaller Advance Squad  
  
Disclaimer: JKR and Warner Bros. own Harry Potter and all related paraphernalia and I don't, but they don't have to go rubbing it in my face like this. Claimer: Frizzy hair and a burnt-out straightener.  
  
The next week went by as uneventful as Harry Potter's life can get. He got a letter from Ron telling him that he would be arriving at HQ the day after Harry and another from Hermione saying that she would get there the week after; her parents were a little anxious to say the least after what happened last year. Their letters made Harry regret his decision to run away, but he knew that he must in order to keep them safe. He planned to do it the night he got there around two AM. He would take his cloak, broom, his money (He would stop at Grinngotts first thing and empty out his vault and convert it to muggle money before anyone realized that he was gone.), and wand. All he had to do was wait the Order to come pick him up. Tuesday of that week they did. The Dursleys and Harry were eating breakfast; or rather Dudley was eating breakfast, Harry was stirring his fork around in his eggs and having second thoughts; when the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia, who was already up getting Dudley some more bacon, went to answer it. Harry heard the click of the doorknob then a small yelp from his aunt and immediately he ran to the door with Uncle Vernon and Dudley right behind him. They were there at last. Lupin, Mad Eye, Tonks, and much to Harry's obvious dismay-Snape, dressed in their muggle best. The first three mentioned were dressed much the same as they had been at the station two and a half weeks ago, and Snape was in a black button-up shirt, a black overcoat much too hot for the season, and black pants. The neighbors would've almost thought he was gothic. Almost; Goths look happier. (A/N: Sorry; I couldn't resist.) Fortunately they were all eating breakfast as well. "Hello Mrs. Dursley, Mr. Dursley." Said Lupin bravely, nodding to each in turn. Tonks gave a half-hearted smile, Mad Eye was eyeing them through his hat, and Snape simply sneered as usual. At this, Vernon blundered in front of his family, as if the unwelcome guests had just uttered death threats and foul curses against them. "What are you doing here? Because, I swear we've been treating that boy just fine!" He shouted doing his best to look intimidating, but failing miserably. "You had better watch your tone, Dursley." Said Mad Eye achieving a much more intimidating voice. "No, we are just here to get Mr. Potter." Snape spat spitefully. (A/N: Try saying that 10 times fast.) "Are you ready Harry?" Asked Lupin, trying to get the conversation back on a more polite tone. "Yes, I just need to go get my things." He said and turned to go up the stairs. "I'll help you." Said Tonks. But Lupin interfered, "Er.no Tonks, why don't you let Severus help instead?" Harry rolled his eye and so did Snape. Tonks looked put out. She may be a clutz, but Harry preferred her over Snape any day. Harry still hadn't forgiven him for what; he did not know. Harry stomped up the stairs, Snape following two steps behind. When they reached the landing, Harry turned toward his room and opened the door. He went over to his closet and began to drag his trunk out, but then stopped and turned to his potions teacher. He was still standing in the door way looking around with a disgusted look on his face. Harry hadn't cleaned up his room all summer. "You could try cleaning sometime Potter; you might fit in better here." Said Snape shrewdly. "You should try washing your hair sometime Professor Snape; it might not be so greasy." Replied Harry, feeling slightly bold at the moment. "You're lucky we're not in school now, Potter, or you would have to pay for that." Said Snape, his eyes narrowing. "I thought that you were supposed to be helping me get this stuff down." Said Harry, now attempting to push his trunk out the door. "Oh, but it's so much more fun to watch you try to do it yourself." He replied with a triumphant grin. But this only made Harry push harder, and he was soon at the bottom of the staircase. He was getting out his broom when Lupin stopped him. "No, no. We've permission to take a portkey this time." He said and took out a large brown feather from his tattered pocket, causing the Dursleys to make confused and frightened frowns. "What's it going to do?" Asked Uncle Vernon tentatively. "It is charmed to disappear from here, taking whatever is touching it, at precisely 6:35 this morning, and reappear with whatever was touching it at our destination." Lupin replied as simply as possible. Uncle Vernon, who clearly still confused, said, "Oh. Well, it's not going to blast a hole in my ceiling or anything like that, is it?" "No, not at all." "We'd better grab on; it's 6:34:32.33.34." Said Mad-Eye gruffly, looking at his watch. "Right." He said and held it out with both hands. The others did the same, and Harry grabbed on end with one hand and a handle to his trunk with the other. Tonks, who was on the other side of it, took the handle on the opposite side. "Well, it was, err.interesting seeing you again. Bye." Said Lupin as thee self-appointed spokesperson of the group, then they all disappeared.  
  
A/N This won't be posted 'till Wednesday, and sorry about the wait. I started it on Thursday afternoon, but then made the mistake of watching the new LOTR movie (Which by the way is AWSOME. I may eventually make a fic about it.) and I spent a day thinking about that. It was a good thing, though, because it made me think of a new aspect of the consequences of the end of book 5, and inspired a new sub-plot. The reason the last two chapters have been kind of sucky is because I've been rushing to get to this new part of the story. It'll be in the chapter after next, most likely. Now to begin the next one before I have to go to bed. Oh, before I go, happy belated Labor Day to all Americans! Urg! Me no like this chappie, but me no have time to change it. 


	5. The Portrait

The Portrait  
  
A/N Again, sorry about the long wait. This chapter is pretty short, so I'm going to try to write some tonight. Can't make any promises, though. I'll update as soon as I can.  
  
Harry felt the familiar jerking sensation-which made it hard to keep a hold of the trunk-and found himself in the foyer of the Black house moments later. He immediately felt his chest begin burn and his throat felt as if it was tied in a knot. It was almost exactly the same as when he was last here. When he last saw Sirius here.  
  
It had the same dark, dank feeling, almost foreboding feeling. There were still skulls and snakes all over, adorning the doors and chandeliers and such. Something was different, though. Though Sirius wasn't in his house, lots of other people were. All sorts of people were walking around, talking, writing things down, coming, leaving, and welcoming Harry. In addition to the choking memory of his godfather, all of these witches and wizards were making his head spin.  
  
Seeing the look on Harry's face, Lupin said: "Since Voldemort has gone public, a lot more people have decided to help us." Harry opened his mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead he emitted this odd sound somewhere between a choke and a squeak.  
  
Then a rather tall witch with curly, dirty-blonde hair and bright red robes that highlighted the blemishes in her face came up and whispered something into Lupin's ear. He scowled and stood up a little taller, then turned to Harry.  
  
"I've got to go Harry. You've got a new room. Lorali will show you the way." He said, then motioned to the rest of Harry's guard plus a few others and left.  
  
"I'm Lorali MacDurid." Said the woman in the red robes and held out a hand for Harry to shake.  
  
"I'm Harry Potter." He said unenthusiastically as he shook it.  
  
"Obviously." She said and chuckled. She couldn't have been more than twenty- two years old. "They don't talk about much other than you around here."  
  
"Oh, yeah?" He replied as he heaved at his trunk. "What do they say about me?" Though he was pretty sure he knew what.  
  
"Let me get that." She said then muttered "Wingardium Leviosa!" under her breath and the trunk lifted its self off the ground. "Just things like 'Harry Potter must be watched at all times.', 'It is of the utmost importance that Harry Potter be kept safe and well at all costs.', 'Harry Potter was grabbed by the collar by his uncle this morning at approximately 5:37 A.M.', 'Harry Potter blinked 1,423 times yesterday.', 'Harry Potter had burnt toast and milk for breakfast.', 'Harry Potter will wear an extra- extra-extra large orange hand-me-down polo next Tuesday'. You know; all of that really important stuff." She said in an obnoxious voice filled with sarcasm and crossed eyes. She turned around and smirked at Harry, who snorted in reply. At least by the sound of it they weren't talking about all of that unimportant stuff, like the fact that he would someday be the one to either conquer Voldemort or die at his hands.  
  
"Occasionally we'll talk about what old You-Know-Who has been up to or what he's supposed to do next." She said as they mounted the third staircase. Harry noticed the growing amounts of cobwebs and dust as they ascended further up.  
  
"What is he expected to do next?" He asked in what he hoped sounded like a casual voice.  
  
She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, turned around and frowned. "I can't tell you that." Then continued to climb the stairs.  
  
"Good." Harry thought. "I bet I could work some information out of her.too bad I won't be here to try." He reminded himself.  
  
Just then they reached the final landing, but there was no door. He was about to say something, when Lorali reached up towards the ceiling with her free hand and pulled on a little handle, which pulled a trap door down along with it. A sliding ladder came down and landed with a thud on the ground and caused small clouds of dust rise. She looked down at Harry, then up at the ceiling again and said, "We may have to add a rope or something to the handle." Then she sent his trunk up to the space above the door and gestured for Harry to do the same.  
  
He placed one foot after the other cautiously on the ancient-looking stepladder. When he reached this landing, he found the room to be dusty, but not as much as the rest of that area of the house. The faded blue paint was peeling off of the walls, and there was old, mismatched furniture scattered about, and black-and-white Quidditch posters tacked to the walls that had to be at least twenty-five years old.  
  
Harry walked up to the wooden desk in the corner and ran his finger across its dusty surface. There were old textbooks, Quidditch books, and papers piled up on it. One of the Quidditch books was open and he blew some of the dust off to see more Quidditch players flying about. He opened up a drawer. Inside, there was an old, frail-looking snitch, which flapped its wings slowly a couple of times, allowing Harry enough time to see the letters L.E. scratched into it, before picking up speed and zooming about the room. It was the exact same one he had seen in the Penseive about a half a year ago.  
  
"I'll be going now." Said Loreli from the door, but Harry hardly noticed. His eyes followed the snitch for a few moments until it landed on a large, half-open armoire with what looked like claw marks all over it. He went over to it, and opened the door all of the way. There were old Hogwarts robes, faded scarves and gloves, everyday robes, tattered shoes, and even a few more Quidditch posters thrown about it.  
  
He turned to his side to find a bed with the faded red comforter still bunched up at the footboard as if someone had just crawled out of it. He looked up at the wall, which the bed was up against to see nearly the entire wall covered with old photos. They were several of Sirius and girls Harry didn't know; some of Hogwarts Quidditch matches; lots of James, Lupin, Sirius, and Peter in and around Hogwarts; some of James and Lily; one or two of Snape with pink hair; one of Sirius and James at what he supposed was the International Quidditch Cup; and, at the very top, one of Harry at the congratulations party last year for Ron and Hermione with Sirius.  
  
Harry tuned about the room, emotions flooding over him. At one point, he noticed something he hadn't before. In the corner of the room there was an easel with a couple of half-finished canvases leaning up against the wall and a small one on the easel its self. As he drew nearer, he began to recognize the subject of the nearly done portrait. It was of Sirius himself, and he was looking Harry in the eye and smiling.  
  
A/N: Well, this is obviously Padfoot's old room. His was up in the attic because he was the family reject. Also, there's a picture of Harry in there because I'm pretending like this was Sirius's haven, and he was so bored in that house that he even tried his hand at painting. Sorry about taking so long, also. I've been up to my eyeballs in homework. It'll bury me alive before this year is over.  
  
And if anyone is out there that's read my story but hasn't posted a review, please do so whether you like my story or not. I'd like to know how many people have given it a chance. Thanks.  
  
-Liseli 


	6. The portrait again

The Portrait Learns of Himself  
  
1st A/N I've thought of a title. It's Harry Potter and Hints/Clues of the Dead. Tell me how corny you think it is and which you prefer, and if you people don't think it's too bad, the update after next will be under that title.  
  
"Hello Harry." The portrait said as Harry came up to it. Harry just stared back.  
  
"What? Don't I look like Sirius? " Sirius asked. Harry closed his mouth then opened it again.  
  
"Sirius?" He asked disbelievingly.  
  
"Yes." He answered slowly. "What's wrong?"  
  
"You-you"  
  
"Me, me." He teased.  
  
"You can't be."  
  
"Why can't I be what? A painting? You'd be surprised what boredom will drive you to do."  
  
"You can't be here."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You're.you're dead."  
  
"What? No, really, what's the mater?"  
  
"You died.just a couple of weeks ago."  
  
"I.I can't be." He said slowly, his face falling. "I was up here not that long ago. Moony was here, too." He said.  
  
"I, I saw you fall.In the Department of Mysteries.Lestrange killed you."  
  
He shook his head. "No.Snape," he spat, "Snape came up here--not that long ago-and criticized me, then told me to go downstairs. Said he needed to tell me something important.I've.I've just been busy.They've finally let me help with the Order."  
  
Harry shook his head and then sat down in the desk chair. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated and choked up.  
  
"Did I.did I really d-die, doing whatever Snape had to say?" Came a feeble voice from the corner a while later.  
  
Harry looked up and nodded slightly.  
  
"That git killed me?!"  
  
"No, he tried to get you to stay here.but you insisted on going."  
  
"Where didn't he want me to go? The Department of Mysteries? That's the place we've been guarding." Sirius's portrait's brow was furrowed in concentration, trying to comprehend the traumatic events of the past month. "Did something happen there? Did Voldemort attempt to get the proph-try to go there?" He asked, catching himself not knowing that Harry already knew about the prophecy.  
  
Harry looked down and began to play with his hands. "He lured me there and then followed. You were supposed to stay here...but you insisted on going." He said then buried his face in his hands again.  
  
And thus the day passed, each lost in their own thoughts.  
  
A/N Extremely, painfully, excruciatingly short chapter, so I'm going to give you two at once. Also, I'm on my computer, which doesn't have the internet (Boo Hoo!), so I don't know who said it, but I think it was Hermione Green. Well, anyway, she asked if the portrait would still talk if it were unfinished or if there was some special charm or something. Well, I thought about it and the way it works in my imagination is that there is some kind of special paint that allows the painter or the subject's personality to be written into the painting as it is painted. And, for future reference, only Remus, Snape, and Harry know about Sirius's painting. (Snape came in to tell Sirius about the situation in the D. of M., and saw Sirius working on his self-portrait and Snape criticized it- That line was kind of confusing.) And, Sirius's portrait can't visit any other portraits because he's not on the wall; he's on the easel still. So, now you know ('Cause it's Mike's Super-Short Show! Sorry, too much Disney Channel.). Please, review, whether at this chapter (If it's long enough to even call it that.) or the next. -Liseli 


	7. the Attempt

The Attempt  
  
F.Y.I. No one knows the contents of the prophecy but Harry and Dumbledore. They haven't told the Order.  
  
Harry sat in the chair for a long time after, thinking about everything far and in between, but mostly about what happened that night in the Department of Mysteries. He couldn't get away from the feeling that it was his fault that Sirius died. He knew what Dumbledore said, but all evidence seemed to point to him. If only he had remembered the mirrors, or listened to Hermione.  
  
Footsteps were coming from the stairwell below. Harry jumped into the bed and pulled the threadbare covers over him. Just before the person reached the room, he shot a quick glance at Sirius, who got the message and began to snore almost obnoxiously. Just in time, Harry closed his eyes.  
  
Someone knocked on the floor surrounding the small opening from the latter. Then the person stepped up into the attic room, and Harry heard the soft creak of someone sitting down in the old desk chair. The person sighed.  
  
Then a soft voice sighed and said, "It's kind of nice up here." It was Lupin.  
  
"He's probably up here to check on me. Make sure the 'Great Harry Potter' hasn't hurt himself." Harry thought spitefully.  
  
"It's definitely quieter than down there. Ah, well," He said and stood up. "I don't want to wake him."  
  
There were footsteps descending the ladder then the stairwell, and Harry and Sirius were left alone again. Before long Harry was no longer pretending to sleep.  
  
Harry woke with a start hours later. He looked out the window. It was well into the night. Time to leave. He opened up his trunk and took out his broom and invisibility cloak, then remembering the last time he traveled by broom, put on his winter cloak.  
  
"Where are you going, Harry?"  
  
Harry jumped and spun around, then relaxed. It was only Sirius's portrait.  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
"Well that's pretty obvious, but why? Where?"  
  
"I dunno-somewhere other than here? I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me. I have to leave. It's to keep them safe." He said and closed his trunk.  
  
There was a pause, then: "Take me with you."  
  
Harry turned around. "What?"  
  
"Take me with you; I haven't been able to be there for you before, but now I can. I don't know what good I'll be, but I'll be there for you."  
  
He thought for a moment. His portrait was pretty small and he would like the company. This kind couldn't get hurt, either.  
  
"Alright." He said then picked up the small canvas and tucked it into the over-sized pockets of his winter cloak along with his wand. He went over to the foot of the bed, mounted his broom and covered himself with the invisibility cloak. He took one hand off of his broom, placed it on the bottom of the window and lifted it.  
  
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream filled the air, and Harry threw off the invisibility cloak, dismounted his broom, and began to pull the window down. It was jammed. The noise, much like that of when you open up a book in the restricted section of the library, was going to wake the whole house.  
  
The next moment, over a hundred wizards were galloping up the stairs. All of them were cramming themselves into the attic, their wands held out, looking around for something amiss.  
  
"Get out of the way, out of the way, you fools! It's coming from the window!" Came a gruff voice belonging to Moody.  
  
All heads instantly turned to Harry, who was still standing next to the blaring window in his black cloak.  
  
"Harry, what happened?" Asked Lupin, panting from running all the way up to the attic.  
  
"Who tried to open the window?" Asked Moody as he heaved on the window. The screaming ceased immediately.  
  
"I, I er.It, it was getting stuffy in here." He mumbled. By this time all of his advance squad was in front of him.  
  
Moody eyed him suspiciously with both eyes, widening them as they reached Harry's pocket. He quickly put his hand over it.  
  
"It might help to take off your cloak next time, Potter." Snape sneered.  
  
"Er, yeah." Harry said, trying desperately not to cause any more trouble.  
  
"Okay, there's nothing wrong here. You can all go back to your rooms." Said Lupin as he made a shooing motion to the crowd of members. One by one the filed out of the attic until Mad-Eye was the only one left lingering in the room.  
  
"I don't imagine Sirius likes being in your pocket much." He said to Harry, then turned and went down the ladder as well. 


	8. Reunions

Reunions  
  
A/N: Whoa! Sorry about the long wait. I had a lapse in Harry Potter enthusiasm. I'm still kind of in it, so don't expect the next chapter any time soon. But hey, I got "The Red" by Chevelle, which partially inspired the end of this story, so things are looking up somewhat. Also, happy belated (wow I use that word a lot. I might make that my new pen name...) Mardi Gras to everyone!  
  
Disclaimer—because I haven't done one in a while—I don't own Harry Potter; JKR does; what else is new?  
  
After taking Sirius out of his pocket, Harry changed into his pajamas and lie down in his bed. He had no intentions of going to sleep, though. He needed to think of how he would escape, but he knew that someone would be checking up on him.  
  
After a long time, it came to him. It was so simple and obvious that he couldn't see it at first, but he did now. He would have to use the door.  
  
He would get a pair of Extendable Ears to listen to the Order, find out what time they were least likely to be about the entrance hall. Then, minding the creaky floorboards and steps, he would sneak out under his invisibility cloak. Once out o the door, he would fly off to Gringotts.  
  
But what about Moody?... He would have to leave when he was out or asleep. Come to think of it, did Mad-Eye sleep? Harry chuckled at the thought. His windows of opportunity would be slim and few.  
  
It would be much more difficult than his first option, but he would have to do it, for the safety of his friends.  
  
Satisfied with his sketchy plan, Harry allowed himself sleep.  
  
A few hours later, Harry awoke to the bright rays of late-morning sun that managed to finally make it past all of the chimneys and rooftops of London, through the window and directly into his closed eyes. He rolled over and buried his face into the pillow, trying to savor those blissful, lingering moments of sleep that he had not felt for weeks. Eventually, he turned over and opened his eyes slowly, but immediately shutting them due to the intensity of the light. He rubbed them, and then opened them to a squint, reaching a groping hand to his bedside table for his glasses.  
  
He pushed back the covers, stood up, then stretched as he yawned. He put on his glasses and rubbed his head sleepily as he walked over to his trunk to get out a set of clothes for the day.  
  
There was a chuckle from the other side of the room and Harry turned to face it while rubbing the sleep crud out of his eyes.  
  
"Oh that's attractive." Said Sirius, earning him a glare and causing the portrait to laugh again. "Not a morning person at all, like James." Harry threw his pajama shirt at him and proceeded to dress. Just as he opened it, he noticed something that he didn't before. Above the desk, invisible from Sirius's position, was the portrait of Phineus.  
  
Harry snorted. They didn't trust him any further than they could see him. He went down his ladder to breakfast.  
  
He opened the kitchen door to find nearly all of the Weasleys and a few of the original members from his last summer seated around the kitchen table, breakfast plates long abandoned. He had forgotten that they were coming. It was a few moments before anyone realized that he was in the room, but as soon as they did he was pulled into a life-threatening hug, courtesy of Mrs. Weasley. Once she let go, she immediately began to fuss over him and told him that she had saved some breakfast for him.  
  
Harry sat down between Fred and Ron as Mrs. Weasley warmed his breakfast.  
  
"Hello, mate." Ron said.  
  
"The muggles weren't too horrid to you, were they? Because we may have something that could er, change their attitude if they were." Said Fred with a mischievous grin that would've made Harry nervous if he didn't know him so well.  
  
"No, not too terrible. Moody had a little chat with them at the station."  
  
"Too bad, because I would've loved to see the look on your fat uncle's face as—"But George was cut off by the look on his mother's face.  
  
"Here you are, Harry dear." Mrs. Weasley said as she set a plate of eggs, sausages, and bacon in front of him.  
  
After breakfast, Harry, Ron, and the twins went up to the room that Harry and Ron had shared during the previous summer. It was now occupied by Ron and some other member of the order which they had not met yet. Fred and George lived in a flat above their store.  
  
"Look, Harry." Ron said ignoring a hoot from Pig, "That painting is gone. The one that used to hang over your bed."  
  
"I know where it is now..." Harry muttered under his breath.  
  
"Where are you staying this time, anyway?" Fred asked as he changed Pig's feathers from white to green, earning another hoot from the owl.  
  
"In the attic." He replied.  
  
Fred and George began to laugh but Ron looked confused.  
  
"So...the took you out of your cupboard at you uncle's house, then put you in the attic here?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yeah, but it's not like—it's a room. Not a regular attic."  
  
"Oh, okay." Ron said.  
  
"Still, kind of ironic." George said.  
  
"Why in the attic, though? I mean, couldn't they've just kicked this guy—who ever he is—up there and let you stay down here?" Ron asked, frowning at the bed opposite of him.  
  
"I dunno, I guess they thought I'd like it better up there." Harry shrugged.  
  
"Yes, I suppose they thought you'd feel much more at home amongst the spiders and dust." Fred said with a grin.  
  
"Can we go see it?" George asked.  
  
"Err..."  
  
But just then, Ginny walked in and plopped herself down on the bed next to Fred.  
  
"What's up, I'm bored." She stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"Thank you for that enlightening bit of information." George said sarcastically from the bureau.  
  
"Yes, I do believe my life is more complete now." Said Fred, feigning compassion.  
  
"You're welcome. Now, come on. Let's go do something." She whined and dragged them out of the room. In the end, they wandered into the kitchen and were lassoed into washing the dishes and tables.  
  
"Are you happy now? We're doing something." Fred asked while attempting to scrape dried porridge off of the table with a spatula. Ginny just glared in reply.  
  
"Wow! I've never played until the entire deck was used before." Ron said, marveling at his card house of Exploding Snap.  
  
"Very good, ickle Ronniekins! You're getting to be such a big boy!" Fred said mockingly.  
  
"Shut up." Ron said with little enthusiasm or care; he knew he wouldn't listen. "Harry, do you have any Exploding Sap cards I could borrow?"  
  
Fred and George began to nearly cry with laughter, and Harry looked up from his Chudley Cannons book and chuckled. Ron had that ever-present look of confusion on his face.  
  
"No, I don't have a set of Exploding Sap," Which only made Fred and George laugh harder. "But I might have Exploding Snap."  
  
"Oh, I get it." Ron said and snorted at himself. "But it's not that funny."  
  
"Mental...images..." Fred gasped, and began laughing again.  
  
Harry shook his head and left the room.  
  
As Harry returned from his room with the cards, he heard a noise. It was a small, sniffling voice, coming a hall closet around the corner. The voice was familiar... He crept closer, wand ready.  
  
"...more and more nasty, filthy, wretched mudbloods in Mistress's house. Taking all the precious things from their places and throwing them away! Kreacher tried to save them, mistress!"  
  
A wave of anger overcame Harry as recognition registered. Abandoning his wand, he threw open the door and grabbed the house elf by the neck. Wrapping both hands around the elf's neck he began to press his thumbs in, so as to choke the creature. It began to kick and squeal, as Harry pressed harder. Then, for the second time that day, Harry found himself surrounded by the Order. This time, it was Mr. Weasley who spoke first.  
  
"Harry, put Kreacher down." He said slowly. Harry continued to hold it up against the wall, hatred blinding reason.  
  
"No." He said simply.  
  
"Harry, please." Mr. Weasley said as if Harry were holding a bomb.  
  
"He killed Sirius!" He almost shouted.  
  
"Killing Kreacher won't solve anything." Remus said.  
  
"Oh, yes it will." Harry mumbled.  
  
"Harry." Lupin said sternly. Harry dropped Kreacher, who scuttled off cursing mudbloods, children, and humanity in general. The crowd cleared away, leaving Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, and Harry standing in the stairwell, Ron's face covered in ash and the former four holding questioning looks in their eyes, but reasoning that it was better not to ask Harry just then.  
  
A/N: long chapter, lots of dialogue, too. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang kindled this small spark of HarryPotteritus—I'm still trying to figure out that subconscious connection...Anyway, look for a HPoS chapter along with this, but no promises. Review, and there might be something in it for you (Such as a faster update, maybe?)  
  
Oh, one last note! This chapter is dedicated to A.M.Bookworm247, because her reviews fanned the flame. -Liseli 


	9. AN

A/N  
  
I really am sorry, but I've discontinued this story (for now) and have begun another 6th year tale. Originally, I was just going to revise this story, but then I realized that it was just easier to start over. I'm sorry, I really am!  
  
Would you please just give the other story a shot, and if I get enough reviews telling me that this one is better, I'll seriously consider picking this one up again.  
  
I'm sorry to have kept you all hanging like this!  
  
If you're just absolutely dying to know what was going to happen, review and I'll get back to you somehow.  
  
Again, I'm sorry! I'm just an insatiable perfectionist.  
  
-Liseli  
  
PS, oh, and because we aren't supposed to update with just an A/N, here's a little ditty for you:  
  
Harry: my life sucks. I hate my life. Blah blah blah.

Dumbledore: in a sing-song voice: turn that frown up-side-down!

Harry: tries to literally turn his mouth around. Runs off to find Hermione to ask if there's a spell for it.

Hermione: Sure there is Harry! Points wand at him.

Hermione: Avada Kedavara!

Harry: is dead, despite the fact that only Voldiepants can do that.

Hermione: oh, wait that's not right...

Hermione: Aranba Keragatum!

Harry: Has sprouted flowers through his nostrils

Hermione: oh, wait, I remember it now!

Hermione: Abra Kedabra!

Harry: Smiles

Madame Pince: No smiling in the library!


End file.
